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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29579844">Chocolate Chip Cookies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/slasherbastard/pseuds/slasherbastard'>slasherbastard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Boy (2016) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Boy (2016 Bell)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Other, reader - Freeform, this is my favourite one so far, you - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:49:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29579844</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/slasherbastard/pseuds/slasherbastard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader got hungry and decided to make cookies</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brahms Heelshire/Original Character(s), Brahms Heelshire/Original Female Character(s), Brahms Heelshire/Original Male Character(s), Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Boy (2016) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Chocolate Chip Cookies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>That one video of that lady trying to make cookies with her grandson (? I think ?) and he’s just eating all the ingredients, that’s what inspired this</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>What you’d expected to take at least 30 minutes turned into a 2 hour frenzy, you had a midnight craving for homemade cookies and you tried to sneak out of bed when you thought Brahms was knocked out for good but the second you stepped on the wrong floorboard, he was up and ready to fight. After reassuring him that there were no intruders and you just wanted to make cookies his face lit up and he obviously asked if he could help. You didn’t think letting Brahms be your assistant would be such a bad idea but you were dead wrong.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Brahms you can’t eat that it’s raw!’ you’d exclaim and reach for the bowl of mixed sugar and butter before he went off to find something else to eat. Baking with Brahms was definitely a chore and you knew that when he asked to be your helper, he meant that he wanted to help eat everything. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You’d turn around for a second to put away the milk or throw broken egg shells in the bin before finding the older man pouring chocolate chips into his mouth straight from the bag. There was a brief moment where you thought that putting the chocolate chips on one of the higher shelves would be fun until you realised that this man towered over you, and you would need his assistance putting the bag on the shelf itself - so that idea was obviously scrapped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Pass me the flour, and don’t eat any of it.’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Why?’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘It’s raw. I don’t want you getting sick.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘But you ate some of the cookie dough.’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘That’s besides the point. Now, the flour.’ Brahms pouted and handed you the bag and watched as you spread it on the counter before splitting the ball of dough and dropping half of it onto the counter and grabbing the rolling pin, also coating that in flour. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Brahms continued asking questions after that - most of them about why he couldn’t eat everything, the other questions were about when the cookies would be done and why you decided that midnight would be the perfect time for baking and of course, if he could help with the cookie cutters. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Hey Brahms? When was the last time you baked something?’ You asked him as he pressed a heart-shaped cookie cutter into the dough, he stopped midway and looked over/down at you. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘I don’t think I’ve done this before.’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He moved out of the way and you grabbed the cookie cutter and brought it over to the tray and pushed the heart cookie out. ‘Really? Well, you’ve clearly got beginner's luck then.’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Not beginner’s luck, I’ve got one of the best teachers.’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Who taught you to be such a gentleman?’ You smiled, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted his mask high enough for you to kiss his lips. The kiss evolved into a short but steamy makeout session that ended up being cockblocked by the oven ringing a few seconds later. You quickly broke apart at the loud noise but laughed as you threw on an oven mitt and took the cookies out - ‘Brahms these are hot so don’t touch them’ - and put in the next tray of unbaked cookies. That was when you noticed that Brahms’ deep green cardigan was covered in flour. You stifled a laugh and took the mitt off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘What?’</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Nothing. I’m gonna go to the bathroom, just finish cutting out these cookies and then I’ll put them in the oven. Deal?’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Deal.’ The two of you exchanged one last kiss before you disappeared to the bathroom upstairs, where you noted that neither you nor Brahms were clean bakers and that your pyjamas were also covered in flour as well. You quickly finished your business then cleaned off as much of the flour as you could before heading back to the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Brahms? Did you finish cutting out the cookies? If you want you can eat the extra dough because-’ You paused as you walked into the kitchen to see the dough missing and Brahms standing there, mask half off with a hand full of dough. You couldn’t see his full expression but you knew he was embarrassed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘Sorry.’ The child’s voice peaked out through the mouthful of dough. You couldn’t help but laugh as you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his torso, he didn’t return the hug since he didn’t want to get cookie dough all over you, so he continued eating what was left of it quickly but not so subtly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You took a step back and reached over for a cookie and took a bite out of it, pretty much moaning at how good it tasted. ‘Come on, let’s make more dough, you can never have too many of these things. ‘ He tried to grab one as well but you smacked his hand away. ‘And if you get sick from eating all that, don’t come crying to me, Brahmsy.’ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Spoiler alert, he did get sick. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
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